


Accidents Happen

by Wedge_Antilles



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: 1965, Gen, Original Series, TOS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-08 03:08:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7741003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wedge_Antilles/pseuds/Wedge_Antilles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes your ego can get you into trouble. A prime example of this is when Alan initiates something that undoubtedly will end in tears.</p><p>I don't own the characters and I know that this fanfiction is a little bit rusty, but I hope you enjoy it!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Boys Will Be Boys

“I am so~ stronger than you.” Alan jeered at his older, ginger brother, who did _not_ look impressed at the prospect of his little brother making fun of him.

“Last time I checked, you couldn’t even move dads chair.” He growled back, crossing his arms as he did so. Alan raised an eyebrow and laughed, a cocky smile coming to his lips.

“Was the last time you checked when I was 4?”

The arguing ceased for a moment when their attention was drawn to the doorway where Scott was standing with his hands on his hips like an unimpressed mother hen.

“What are you two arguing about now?” He asked, not sure if he actually wanted to be dragged into another one of his younger brothers’ escapades.

“Well-” Alan started, only to be cut off by Gordon who turned on the sofa to look at their oldest brother.

“Alan thinks he’s stronger than me.”

Scott gave a knowing nod and walked further into the room.

“Well we all know who is actually the strongest” He chuckled. This time, both Alan and Gordon raised an eyebrow and looked at each other.

“What? I’m strong.” Scott frowned. He heard a snicker from the youngest and glared.

“Well yeah, you’re strong. But I don’t think you’re the _strongest_ ”

The oldest mimicked Gordon and crossed his arms over his chest, a telling sign that he was getting a bit annoyed with their antics.

“Okay. Who do _you_ think the strongest is?”

Gordon rubbed his chin and leaned back on the sofa in thought as he shuffled through his brothers in his head. He actually thought that they were all pretty strong but, although he would never care to admit it, he thought that Scott would come out on top.

“Not John. He’s far too skinny to be strong.” He said finally after some silence. Alan huffed and then pointed to himself.

“It’s obviously me. I work out the most out of all of us.”

Gordon rolled his eyes and covered them with his hands, an exasperated groan coming from him.

“Alan. We’re being serious”

The youngest bother’s mouth opened as he went to retaliate but was cut off by John walking in. This was the first time all five brothers had been down on island since John started his work up in Thunderbird Five. Tin-Tin was nice enough to offer to take Alan shift so that they could all spend some time together for once.

“What are you boys arguing about now?” Asked the blond as he walked in with his hands in his pockets, to which Scott replied (with added annoyance):

“They’re trying to find out who the strongest is. Alan obviously thinks it's himself.”

The youngest pointed at Scott and growled,

“I don’t think, Scott. I know.” He turned to Gordon and smiled somewhat suspiciously at him which made him shuffle along the sofa away from the youngest blond and look to Scott and John for help. “Gordon. I challenge you to a lift-off.”

“A lift-off. So we’re just going to lift things?”

With a nod, Alan held out his hand towards him.

“Yes, but we choose things for each other...”

His eyes darted from Alan’s hand to his face plastered with the cheeky grin, making him pull his hand away just as he was about to shake it.

“They have to be reasonable things. No lifting Thunderbird One or something stupid like that.” He said.

“Of course. Now shake it, Aquanaught.”

They shook hands and then Alan held it out to Scott.

“What about you. You up for it?”

Looks were exchanged between John and Scott, but he shrugged his shoulders and walked over, taking his youngest brothers hand and gripping it.

“Of course.”

John held out his hands and coughed.

“Missing someone?”

Alan went over to John and shook his hand as well. He looked chuffed when the youngest stepped back and put his hands on his hips.

“This’ll be fun.”

Scott looked to the doorway as he saw Virgil walk by humming a cheerful tune to himself, pulling something which looked like a screwdriver off of the shelf and putting it into the box he was holding.

“What about Virge? He might want to join in.” Scott said, still watching until the middle Tracy disappeared past. Alan looked too but waved off the comment.

“Nah, Virge is too mature. Anyway, even John’s probably stronger than him.”

“Hey!” The second oldest butted in, but he paid no attention to it.

“He’s not really the weight lifting type.” Alan finished.

All eyes looked at the youngest and Scott couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, and _you_ are.”


	2. So You Think You Can Lift?

“So” Alan smiled to himself as he approached the side of the pool. He pointed to the shaded bed that sat neatly away from the waters, offering protection from the sun to the user, and looked to Gordon.

“I want you all to try and lift that.”

First to step forward was Scott, who lifted it relatively easily. Next was John who struggled a bit but managed to lift (or tilt) it to the required 20 inches off of the ground. To Alan’s disappointment, they all completed it and they looked very pleased with themselves once they had, all lined up with their arms crossed with pride at their victories. Alan huffed, holding his hands behind his back as he thought through who's turn it should be next to choose an item. After some impatient encouragement for the decision to be made already - from Scott, Alan finally pointed to John and couldn't help but make a comment about his difficulty to lift the bed. 

“Okay. Now it’s John turn to choose, since he struggled the most.”

 

They were all crated off to the study where, once they arrived, John sat down on one of the chairs and crossed one leg over the other. Scott smiled and half expected him to do his impression of one of those old timely bad guys from spy movies.

“So we have to lift one of these? That’s easy. They don’t weigh that much.” Gordon smirked. John nodded and grabbed Scott’s arm from where he was standing, pulling him over and making him sit with him on the chair. They sat sort of squashed together and he grinned.

“You have to lift this chair, with two of us on.”

“Well that’s not fair. We all weigh different.” Alan said as he crossed his arms. Scott rolled his eyes and gestured for Gordon to come over. They didn't have time for Alan's griping, they wanted to hurry up and see who really was the strongest.

“Not that much different. Now come on. I think I’m squishing John’s leg.”

The second oldest chuckled and Gordon grabbed the bottom of the chair, lifting it slowly before Alan came over with the tape measure. Scott gripped onto John's arm when he started to slide off of the tilting chair, although it didn't help him very much since John also felt that if the chair went any higher, he would slip off too. Alan stared at it and made a sort of ‘Hmm’ noise as the level shifted from 19 inches to 19 and a half. Shakily, from the weight of the chair, the ginger sighed at the time it was taking for the youngest to measure it. He was sure he was up to something, trying to throw him off, trying to get his own back - something.

“Come on Alan!” Gordon growled.

“It’s not 20.” Alan said smugly, making him drop it and John and Scott jolt into each other.

“Go on then. You try.” He almost shouted back as he took the measure from his brothers hand and waited for the chair to be lifted. The chair tilted again and it went almost to 20. Gordon, who was still a bit peed off, stared at it and rubbed his chin in a theatrical way, 'um'-ing and 'Hmm'-ing.

“It’s not 20” He mimicked the youngests voice with a glare. Upon realisation what Gordon was doing, he mustered all the strength he had and lifted it to a solid 20, and then Scott switched with Gordon and got it up to 20 almost straight away.

“Okay. Scott’s turn to choose.” Alan said as he pulled John up from the seat, to which Gordon frowned.

“Last round it was the one who struggled the most.”

“It switches each round. Don’t worry. Your turn will come soon enough.” The youngest patted the gingers shoulder in a patronising manner before following Scott out of the room towards the lab

“Just you wait, shrimpy” The ginger mumbled to himself.

Scott’s weapon of choice was the lab workshop table (after being cleared of scientific equipment). That round Alan won, Gordon coming a close second and John finishing last having only managed to lift it to 18 inches. John panted and sat on the floor once he'd finished his turn with a worried look on his face, a sudden feeling washing over him. It was the same feeling he'd had before the U.S.S Sentinel had shot Thunderbird 2 down, and when Scott had been taken down in the desert. Whatever the rest of the day had in store, he had an inkling that it was going to be something bad.


	3. 'I've Got a Bad Feeling About This...'

“Okay. My turn.” Gordon said cheerfully as he led his brothers towards Thunderbird Two’s silo and, after opening it, they all slid into pod number 4. Alan looked to him and crossed his arms. He wasn't very impressed with where this was going.

“Hey. You said nothing silly. Remember?”

The ginger walked over to a large stack of crates that were full of replacement parts for Thunderbird Four. They were towered relatively high and made Scott feel very uncomfortable being in their way. Gordon put his hands onto his hips and gestured to them. Usually, it was Alan who was up to these cheeky antics - yeah, Gordon liked the odd joke or prank, but on occasion even the down to earth ginger could become extreamly childish.

“This is what you have to lift.”

Scott glanced at John with a look that expressed his uncertainty, but they walked over anyway and frowned at the pile.

“How are we going to get one down?” Scott questioned, hoping that he hadn't thought his plan through, but of course Alan pointed to the crane that was used to move the big pieces of equipment with a grin. 'Damn.' Scott groaned to himself. “Alright then…”

Gordon picked up the remote and manoeuvred the crane so that it was hovering over the stack. Easily, after months of practice with the piece of machinery, he picked up a box. He was relying on Alan to tell him where to move and the crane arm struggled to pull the box free from the others, allowing Gordon to shift it.

“Okay. Go slow, Gordon” The youngest blond shouted from the walkway. The ginger nodded and moved the toggle towards him, moving the crate slowly overhead. John was standing back to avoid incident, watching the crane closely when he noticed the box slip slightly. His eyes shot to Scott, who had distanced himself in front of the second youngest, and shouted to him, the sheer panic in his voice catching the oldest off guard.

“Scott! The box!” Was all he could think to scream in his sudden realisation.

Scott's blood ran cold as he looked from John up to the suspended box and saw it jolt more. He tried to urge himself to move but his feet felt like they were glued to the ground and his heart felt like it was going to stop dead. Alan didn’t notice until it came free from the cranes grabs and fell towards where Gordon was standing. He seemed stunned by the shouting that was going on around him and despite his best efforts, he couldn't snap out of it, his eyes stuck on the weight that was falling towards him. He felt a weight wrap around his waist and throw him, making him lurch of to the side, falling far from the box and slamming to the ground with a reverberating thud. Scott had managed to push him from harms way.

He was safe - the same couldn't be said for Scott...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this was a really short chapter, but I thought that it left a good point for the next one to start off. I hope you like it so far!


	4. It's all Gonna End in Tears

Once some of the dust that had been kicked up from the impact had cleared, John ran over with his mouth covered by his arm.

“Scott, Gordon! Are you okay?”

He could only see Gordon’s legs sticking out from the other side of the box until he got closer and realised that he was safe. Alan slid down the stairs as quick as he could to get to Gordon while John went to the aid of Scott. There was still some sawdust and such floating about in the air so he couldn’t see the extent of the damage.

There was a groan from the eldest as he pulled his hand to his head and looked at it to see blood, and when he tried to drag himself up, a pain in his legs froze him with agony. He took a sharp intake of air and held his breath against the pain, only letting out quick breaths.

“Scott. Scott are you okay?” John cried as he reached him. He stopped dead in his tracks and his jaw dropped when he saw the sight of his oldest brother’s legs trapped under the long box.

“No. John. I need help. My legs… I think they’re-”

“Don’t worry Scott. I’m here.”

Scott nodded as he tried to shift himself to the side, he could feel a pole or something pushing into his back, making his ribs sore. He tried to sit up and look at what was holding him down but the pull on his legs made him groan again and thump the ground with his balled up fist.

“Scott. Stop moving. You’re stuck. The box fell on your legs.” John said as he kneeled down beside him and pulled him from under his shoulders so he could prop himself up with ease.

“I can feel that, John.” Was his sharp reply. Alan came hurrying over with Gordon’s arm slung over his shoulder, dragging his struggling brother along.

“Gordon. You’re okay. Thank God.” Scott smiled warily from the ground. The smile made Gordon feel so guilty, it was his fault they were in this state.

“I’m going to get dad and Brains.” John said to Alan, but Scott held onto the wrist and shook his head.

“No. They’ll be furious. Just use the crane or something.”

Gordon shook his head and sighed.

“We can’t. Clamps are broken, now, for good. They won’t do anything to move it.”

Alan set Gordon down as his face lit up, telling his brothers that he had an idea. He ran towards the open door with all his determination as John shouted after him.

“Where are you going?”

He turned back, holding onto the side of the door.

“To get Virgil and the Domo.”


	5. This Was a Stupid Idea

“One. Two. Three!” Gordon shouted as he struggled with the box in an attempt to lift it. It moved slightly and John, prepared with his arms held under Scott’s, pulled on his brother, trying to free his legs. A searing pain burned through them. It reminded him of the time he had fallen down the steps to the beach, a nasty, drawn out tumble that resulted in his leg being broken and a fractured wrist. He shook his head and tugged on John’s hand as he tried to keep tears from his eyes.

“Stop. Stop!” He yelled in agony. John let him down gently onto the floor and sat beside him.

“It’s no use.” John sighed, breathless from the attempt. He looked to his older brothers face and saw a wet streak appear and a tear splash onto the floor. Grabbing his hand, John brushed some hair out of his brother’s face with his other. He didn't really know what else to do, all he knew was that it must've been getting to the oldest because he never cried, _ever_ , at least not in front of them.

“Don’t worry Scott. We’ll have you out of here in no time.”

“I know.” He replied. There was a deep sigh from him that shook and sounded agonized. He felt pathetic, he felt like he was making such a fuss out of this but he really couldn't help it. “This hurts more than that Chinese burn Alan gave me that time.” he joked. Scott always had a way of making a situation better but this time it didn't work as well as usual and he couldn't help but squeeze his eyes shut against the pain.

Gordon forced a smile as he sat the other side, glancing back at the box that trapped his brother. The oldest balled his fist and tapped it lightly on his forehead, his teeth gritted against the crushing agony in his shins. He guessed that there must be at least a fracture or something.

“The last time I saw that fake smile was a long time ago, Gordon.”

The second youngest nodded solemnly but continued trying to keep Scott looking at him and not the box, and hopefully distract him somewhat from the pain. John moved his free hand to Gordon’s shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly, he'd wished Scott hadn't said that, but he knew that he had a tendency to forget himself when in any kind of discomfort, this being no exception.

“Well we got through that, didn’t we? You’re gonna be fine. I promise.”

Scott nodded and laid his head back as the load of the box seemed to become heavier and heavier.

 

Finally, Alan managed to find Virgil as he was tinkering away on The Mole, fixing one of the scrapes it had acquired on the last mission. He skidded to a halt beside the auburn haired brother and grabbed his arm, pulling him in the direction of their trapped brother but Virgil resisted, giving his youngest brother a funny look when he’d freed himself.

“What’s wrong, kid?” He asked with a smile as he picked up a cloth and rubbed his hands clean.

“It- it’s Scott! His legs are stuck under a parts box for Thunderbird Four!”

Virgil threw the greasy cloth down and sprinted past Alan who followed quickly behind him.

“Wait! Virge, we need the Domo. Virge – Oh what’s the use!” He mumbled as he ran behind.


	6. All's Well That Ends Well

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got the time to post the final chapter! Sorry for the delay!

“Scott!” Virgil shouted as he ran up to the two that sat either side of the eldest, Alan panting as he caught up. Gordon moved out of the way so that Virgil could talk to Scott, who was beaming at the sight of the auburn haired Tracy.

“You look terrible” Virgil said, trying to make Scott smile. It worked, but he did look terrible… His eyes were a red-y colour and his forehead was covered in beads of sweat.

“I’ll live” The eldest chuckled lightly until he felt the pain wash over him again. “What should we do?” He asked. It was odd for all the brothers. Usually Scott was the one who had a plan for everything, but he _did_  had an excuse.

“I’ll lift the box. Gordon, John, you pull him. Alan, I guess you can make sure his legs are clear when I drop it.”

John shook his head at the idea but Virgil was already standing by the object, ready to lift it.

“We already tried that Virge. It’s too heavy.”

The middle Tracy ignored what was said to him and nodded to Gordon who then got into position, followed reluctantly by John and then Alan who sat by the box to keep an eye on Scott’s legs.

“Go!” Virgil called as he heaved the box with all his strength. To the others amazement, the box lifted a little, and then more, until there was enough room to free the eldest Tracy’s legs. He was pulled clear and Alan gave Virgil the signal to drop it to the ground again. After landing with a thud, he put a hand on it and panted, putting the other hand on his back– must’ve pulled something, he thought to himself, but his back was the least of his worries at the moment.

“Come on. Let’s get him to the medical bay.” John said as he and Gordon tried to pull Scott up, but that caused him far too much pain. They resorted to slinging his arms over a shoulder each and crossing their arms, gripping tightly to act like a chair like they did when they were younger.

“What on earth are we gonna tell Dad?” Scott sighed, leaning is head back a little as he was carried out of the green ship.

 

 

“What on earth happened!” Jeff shouted as he practically ran through the medical bay door to see four of his sons huddled around a bed containing his eldest. Scott smiled innocently and pulled the blanket up to cover the his splinted and cast legs, hoping he'd been inconspicuous enough.

“We… Er – We’re catching up on old times, you know” He ran a hand through his hair. Jeff raised an eyebrow and walked over to the bed. They all turned to look at him from their seats and he pinched the bridge of his nose and gave an exasperated sigh.

“You boys. What am I going to do with you?”

Laughter broke out amongst them all (Gordon tried to refrain from laughing too much, his ribs were killing him and Virgil’s back still hurt as well). After checking over his oldest repeatedly, Jeff finally had to leave due to an unexpected emergency call from the lab.

“I have to go boys, Brains called.” He sighed.

“Oh? What’s wrong?” Scott asked as he tried to push himself up a little further, but the pain in his legs soon made him think twice. Jeff turned as he reached the door and smirked.

“Something about a few hooligans moving his experiments.”

They all exchanged looks and started laughing again. They really should have thought this through before hand. When they’d all calmed down, Gordon brought up something that was on everyone’s mind.

“How the hell did you lift that box though, Virge?”

The auburn haired brother shrugged his shoulders as all eyes turned to him, making him shift uncomfortably.

“It wasn’t that difficult.” He smiled. Gordon slowly tuned to look at Alan and raised an eyebrow.

“Wasn’t that difficult. Did you hear that Alan?”

The other nodded and laughed.

“Well. I think we all know who the strongest of us is.”

Virgil smiled as Scott put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it, chuckling to himself at the rare occurrence of Alan Tracy admitting he was wrong for once..

“Yeah, I think we do… But let’s never do that again.” Scott nodded towards Alan. He nodded back and held up his hands.

“Ever.”

Virgil was confused as to what they were talking, frowning at the others.

“Do what?” he asked.

“A contest to see who the strongest is.” Alan answered simply. Virgil turned to look at Scott and tilted his head, giving him a look that said ‘You were really stupid enough to do that?’

They all chuckled, apart from Virgil who just rubbed his forehead. He couldn’t believe that people that were so smart could come up with such a stupid idea, but then something popped into his head.

"Hey, why was I left out?"


End file.
